In retrospect, I should have known that his plans for the evening were more elaborate than he'd told me. They always are. But I went into it thinking that we were simply having dinner with a friend of his, a man he referred to as an excellent conversationalist and a 'fun' person.

I wore almost-normal clothes -- a long skirt with high-heeled boots, scoop necked silk shirt with a pendant in the shape of his mark. My buttocks still tingled from the spanking he'd given me earlier, and I could feel a bruise swelling gently on my thigh where he'd bitten me. There was a certain extra thrill in feeling the aches and throbs in my body after he had done with me. I relished them as a secret thrill when people saw us together; for we were close friends and no one knew of the deeper relationship we shared.

The man he introduced as Kevin was already seated in a booth at the restaurant when we arrived. He was tall and slim, with a stern countenance and ivy green eyes that thawed a little when he smiled. My master ordered for me, and this was my first clue that something was up. He ordered a light, easily digestible meal, which alerted me to the fact that I would possibly need to be ready for action before long. Or he could simply be teasing me...

But no.

He and Kevin chatted easily over their wine. I sat back and enjoyed the witty conversation, relishing the feel of my master's leg against mine. He was not playing much attention to me, other than to smile at me occasionally or feed me a morsel of food from his plate. I began to relax, the wine making me feel mellow and a little sleepy.

Suddenly his head snapped around and when I looked into his eyes I knew the game was about to begin. Still, I was stunned when he slapped my face lightly and ordered me to the restroom to remove my underwear.

My face must have showed my amazement. How could he talk to me like this in front of Kevin? No one knew of our relationship save my master and me, his slave. And now he was ordering me around in front of a man I had just met!

My hesitation seemed to anger Kevin, because he leaned over the table and grabbed my face in his hands, squeezing my cheeks painfully. His eyes were frosty.

"Do you hesitate, little one? Most unwise."

My head immobile, I looked pleadingly, looked, at my master, but he met my frightened eyes with a glare. He wanted it this way!

As I left the table, I felt a tear slide down my cheek. It was a salt sister to the moisture between my legs.

I removed my bra and panties hastily, wadding them up in my purse, and returned to the table, wondering what would happen next.

My master was gone. Kevin smiled and handed me a note written on the napkin. I was to do exactly as Kevin told me, and we would meet my master in half and hour at Kevin's office, which was a couple blocks away. I expected Kevin to touch me, to use his fingers on me beneath my skirt. It seemed to me that he enjoyed causing pain, and I looked at the sharp knives on the table with trepidation.

I knew that by leaving me alone with Kevin, my master was testing my obedience. Obviously, he trusted Kevin completely or this would not be happening, but I was afraid and wished for my lover, my safe, dangerous master, who terrified and aroused me with no rhyme or reason.

"We'll finish our meal," Kevin said, smiling, "Then leave."

He took from his pocket a square of soft, gray leather, which he instructed me to sit on. I bunched my long skirt above my hips and tried to sit in a dignified, unobtrusive manner. I could feel the wetness seeping from between my legs onto the soft leather, and I longed to rub myself against it.

Kevin reached beneath the table and parted my knees with his, his legs so long that by stretching them apart comfortably he and me sprawled wide thighed on the leather. I felt sure that everyone could smell my fear and arousal. He tied my wrists with a leather thong and instructed me to finish my meal. It was a little uncomfortable and cumbersome holding a fork, but I managed, although my appetite had gone, and my inhibitions were on the verge of following suit.

Limitations, I mused, trembling. My master had hinted of this in the past, saying that he would soon test me and allow me to explore my fears and limits. True, there were things that terrified me and some of them aroused me at the same time. But surly, I thought, in a crowded restaurant Kevin can hardly command me to do much. Once again, foolishly, I began to relax.

"So, little one, tell me your opinion of the Middle East peace talks."

So he really meant to teach me tonight. Only my master knew that I would choose being splayed naked and wet before the world before talking about my political opinions. Howard told this to Kevin, who slapped my face to get me to talk.

Haltingly, I began mumbling softly, keeping my eyes on the tablecloth. Kevin grabbed my hair and lifted my head.

"You will look at me when you speak to me. You will speak clearly, politely, concisely, and you will not repeat yourself. You will not stop speaking until I tell you to. Is that understood?"

I nodded, gulping back tears.

Kevin's hand moved so quickly I did not see it, until I felt the stinging in my nipple where he had pinched it viciously.

"You address me as Kevin, woman."

"Yes, Kevin," I whispered, raising my eyes to meet his.

"Good. Begin with the Palestinian question."

It seemed as though I talked for hours, although it could have been no longer than fifteen minutes. Kevin made no response; he looked into my eyes and listened. Once, he nodded, but that was all. For the first few minutes I felt mortified, certain that I was embarrassing myself by showing my naiveté. But after a while, I found myself warming to the subject. Why, Kevin was a captive audience just as I was a captive! I felt the need to win from him a nod, a smile, a faint thawing in those icy green eyes, and right then I could use only my intellect to accomplish this.

But Kevin stopped me by gently raising his index finger to my lips. He thrust it into my mouth and instinctively I sucked it, running my tongue around the ridge of his fingernail. I wiggled on the seat, feeling that the leather had stuck to thighs. But he said nothing about my words, had no comment on my grasp of the Middle East, and I began to feel afraid again. I had disappointed him!

When Kevin had finished his meal, he took from beneath me the saturated square of gray leather and delicately wiped his lips with it.

We walked to the building that held Kevin's office. Kevin did no touch me, and when I stumbled he let me fall. I cursed him silently and felt a lump forming in my throat. In the elevator, he blindfolded me and fear grew.

Kevin opened a door, and I suddenly smelled my master's scent. Unable to control myself, I started sobbing and turned this way and that, unable to see, searching for the touch I knew and loved.

He came up behind me and took me in his arms. Bound, I could not hold him. Blind, I could not see him. He held me close and whispered sweetly in my ear, kissing my tearstained face and calling me his sweet girl. I felt his erection pressing against my belly and thought, somewhat incoherently and with great relief, that we could go home and love each other, and I would be good, oh, so very subservient and please him, for that was what I more than anything in the world. I had forgotten completely about Kevin, felt only my arousal and love and need, and I burrowed into my master's shoulder, still crying a little, and whispered that I loved him, and he turned me around and in a cutting, sharp voice that I recognized, said, "Kneel, bitch."